Anne noted that she was 30 minutes early. She smiled to herself and registered at the receptionist's window. Then she set Megan down and pulled a Little Golden Book out of her shoulder bag. She handed it to Megan and took her hand.

Together, they walked over to the closest wall of chairs. Megan waited as Anne took a seat before climbing into her lap. Anne smiled. But then she stopped. How much longer will my little girl be able to do this on her own? She wondered sadly.

Anne opened the book and began to read. Megan sat still for the first three pages, but then decided to start fidgeting. Anne finally closed the book and played pattycake with the squirming 3-year-old. Sometimes she acts so normal, marveled Anne. And then the night comes... She tried to push the thoughts away.

The short game soon tired Megan out. She snuggled close to Anne. Anne held her and tried not to move around too much. An uneventful nap was rare for Megan these days, so Anne did her best to help the occasional one along. She lifted her head and checked the clock on the wall. 15 minutes until they were scheduled to see the doctor. Anne smoothed Megans hair and tucked the little head beneath her chin. Resting her head on her daughter's, she closed her eyes.

Mark never had to worry. He always led a very good life. His father owned several oil companies and his mother was a respected woman of the community. He would always be financially secure because of his father and well known because of his mother. The only things he had to worry about was the things he couldn't control. Like his health. For the longest time he felt very tired and had no energy at all. He would sweat at night and have absolutely no appetite. At first he thought it was just a flu or that he was stressed out. After spending four years at Harvard, he figured he would be. Finally, after a lot of nagging from his mother, he went to the doctor.

When he got to the doctor's office, the secretary told him and his mother to sit down. She drove Mark because he was too tired to drive. In fact, he was too tired to do pretty much anything these days. After waiting for about 45 minutes, he was called in. After telling the doctor his symptoms, feeling tired, weak and not very hungry, the doctor did a physical examination. The examination revealed that his spleen was slightly swollen. The doctor said he was concerned and referred him to Dr.Lewis, an Oncologist at LaMesa General Hospital. He wanted him to do some test. He wrote up the referral and handed it to Mark. Mark asked if he thought there was anything wrong and the doctor said that it was nothing serious but he had a look. Mark couldn't explain it but it was a look that made him very uncomfortable. He exited the office and told his mom he had to go to LaMesa to see this Oncologist.

     At LaMesa, Mark asked the woman at the front desk what floor Dr. Lewis was on. She told him the second. On the elevator ride up, Mark began to feel faint and nauseous. He took a deep breath and it went away.

"What's wrong with me?" he thought. "This can't be good." When he found Dr. Lewis' office there were 3 other people waiting there. A little girl, who had bruises all over her arms and legs and looked like he felt, and her mother and a older looking woman. He wondered what they were here for.

He explained to the secretary why he was here and showed her the referral. She said it might be about 45 minutes but he could sit and wait.

"DUH!" he thought. "I could've figured that out myself, Lady." She wasn't the nicest of secretaries. He hoped that Dr. Lewis wouldn't be that way.

After spending an hour reading really old copies of Newsweek and Time magazine, he was called in. He greeted Dr. Lewis and gave her the referral to which she accepted with a smile. That made Mark feel a bit better. She told him to sit on the exam table and proceeded to move her fingers around his spleen just like to other doctor. He asked if a swollen spleen was a bad thing and she told him it depended on the case.

She sat down and said that considering his symptoms it might be possible that he would have Leukemia. Mark gulped and felt dizzy. Leukemia! How could that be possible? Dr. Lewis said that it was only a possibility and ordered some tests done. She told him to go down to the ER to get them done.

Mark, who was still not grasping the concept of him having cancer, thanked the doctor and asked, "Am I going to die?"

"Not if I can help it". She replied.

Anne carried Megan down the hall to the elevator an hour and a half later. The appointment had taken a little longer than she'd expected, but she didn't worry. She had taken the day off of work, so she didn't need to think about what time to get there. Megan was half asleep in Anne's arms. Anne thanked God for giving her such a little trooper. She hadn't cried too hard when the doctor had drawn the blood; she was almost used to it now. Anne reached the elevator and pressed the "down" button. After a minute of waiting, the doors parted.

Anne was grateful to be the only passenger on the car. She hated for people to see Megan. Because of her hacking cough, people almost always asked what was wrong with her. Anne felt horrible for attributing it to a cold, but she couldn't stand the stigma attached to AIDS. She thought it was easier for Megan not to have to deal with the stares and rude comments of strangers. Megan suddenly came alive.

     "Mommy, mommy, can I press the button?" She asked. Now THIS is the way my daughter should be, thought Anne.

     "Sure, Honey." Anne held the squirming child up to the button. Megan hit the glowing circle and smiled, quite satisfied with herself. The doors silently closed, and the trip down began. Suddenly, the car stopped. The doors opened.

Mark walked to the elevator and pushed the button. While he was waiting for the elevator to arrive he started to think. He couldn't believe that he might have cancer. The thought made him very scared. The elevator arrived and he got in.

When he reached the ER he went to the front desk and gave the paper that Dr. Lewis gave him to the receptionist. She told Mark to go behind curtain 2 and wait. She pointed towards a curtain in the back. He went and sat on the bed and waited.

He started to whistle a tune he had in his head for a while "Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip..." He got bored of that after 5 minutes and decided to look around the ER.

All of a sudden he heard someone scream. It was an EMT, he came crashing through the ER doors saying to a doctor,

"15 year old white male thrown out of a car in an accident, BP 90 over 60, pulse ox 97." A teenage boy was lying on the gurney in pretty bad shape. They brought him into a room marked "Trauma 1". Mark sighed and hoped he would be okay.

After a while a nurse came into the curtain while Mark was lying on the bed counting the dots on the ceiling. She told him she needed to take 3 blood samples. After injecting him 3 times she told him that his doctor would be calling him with the results in about 2 days. He asked her if there what the odds were that he had cancer. She said she was sorry but it was quite likely. Well... that just made his day. He started to feel faint and asked the nurse for some water. She gave him some and asked if he was okay. He said yes, he was just thirsty. He drank the water, thanked the nurse and exited the curtain. The only thing he could do now is go home, rest and wait for the call. The pressed the elevator button and when it arrived, got on.

A young man stepped aboard. He pressed the button for the lobby, but it seemed like it took all his strength to do so. His complexion was pale, and he looked tired.

     "Are you okay?" Asked Anne, alarmed. "Do you want me to call a doctor?"

     "No, that's fine," he replied. He leaned heavily against the elevator wall and sighed. Then he looked up at her. "Cute kid," he said, gesturing to Megan, who was back on Anne's hip.

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